It Is Time
Not long after I entered the sixth decade of this ramshackle enterprise I call my life, I began to reflect on all that I have witnessed, experienced and learned. Memories and reveries began peeking out from my subconscious and soon became frequent guests.
I suppose this phenomenon may be attributable to the aging process (either that, or I’ve ingested a few too many psychotropic substances over a few too many years). No matter the reason, I am awash in reminiscence. I’ve come to see that time has stripped these memories of detail. The insignificant particulars have slowly eroded to become mere sediment in a sea of amnesia. What are left are kernels of experience and truth.
I began to wonder why particular memories came back to me so often. Why do I relive certain experiences over and over and over again, but not others? What are my mind and heart trying to tell me? I found myself becoming ever more pensive. I don’t know what these reveries mean, but I feel compelled to find out. The only way I can hope to divine their meaning is to translate these voiceless musings into words.
I am no writer. I’ve never kept a journal. Although I’ve maintained a sporadic correspondence with various and sundry friends, I’ve never tried to consistently hone this craft or develop any particular versatility with words (come to think of it, I’ve never consistently applied myself to anything…I am a restless soul). I predict this blog will showcase my shortcomings. So be it. I may not be able to find the best words, but I hope to at least find honest words. I want to know the truth about my life and my self.
I cannot think of a more appropriate title for this undertaking than to call it At Twilight. Twilight is when my nocturnal soul emerges. Twilight is when magic happens. As the hubbub of the day recedes, as shadows lengthen and vesper bells begin to ring, my mind grows quiet and my soul begins its whispering.
It is time. My day is drifting towards night. The streets are empty and the trees have grown still. It has been a long, long day…54 years and counting. I seek repose. I seek to reflect on the day’s experience to glean some measure of understanding. Lights begin to flicker in amber glow through windows all around me. It is twilight.
It is time.
I suppose this phenomenon may be attributable to the aging process (either that, or I’ve ingested a few too many psychotropic substances over a few too many years). No matter the reason, I am awash in reminiscence. I’ve come to see that time has stripped these memories of detail. The insignificant particulars have slowly eroded to become mere sediment in a sea of amnesia. What are left are kernels of experience and truth.
I began to wonder why particular memories came back to me so often. Why do I relive certain experiences over and over and over again, but not others? What are my mind and heart trying to tell me? I found myself becoming ever more pensive. I don’t know what these reveries mean, but I feel compelled to find out. The only way I can hope to divine their meaning is to translate these voiceless musings into words.
I am no writer. I’ve never kept a journal. Although I’ve maintained a sporadic correspondence with various and sundry friends, I’ve never tried to consistently hone this craft or develop any particular versatility with words (come to think of it, I’ve never consistently applied myself to anything…I am a restless soul). I predict this blog will showcase my shortcomings. So be it. I may not be able to find the best words, but I hope to at least find honest words. I want to know the truth about my life and my self.
I cannot think of a more appropriate title for this undertaking than to call it At Twilight. Twilight is when my nocturnal soul emerges. Twilight is when magic happens. As the hubbub of the day recedes, as shadows lengthen and vesper bells begin to ring, my mind grows quiet and my soul begins its whispering.It is time. My day is drifting towards night. The streets are empty and the trees have grown still. It has been a long, long day…54 years and counting. I seek repose. I seek to reflect on the day’s experience to glean some measure of understanding. Lights begin to flicker in amber glow through windows all around me. It is twilight.
It is time.
* * *
posted by Jonas | 9/10/2005 01:10:00 PM
4 Comments:
"I predict this blog will showcase my shortcomings. "
This blog, does showcase something, it showcases a man who has traversed devastation of the soul, with dignity, insight, and risibility. You have the soul of a poet, and the heart of an angel.
Shortcomings! Ha! Look how long you have been posting here! How eloquent you are, your soul laid out like quilting squares. We stitch and stitch.
Have you a moment
for a reminisce?
It isn't easy
but for my face
which once was
in an older day
(1/10/11)
I wanted to see your lift off...what brought you here. I usually do with bloggers. Realized I had never journeyed here.
And what a long, stange trip it's been, Annie!
Never thought I'd still be writing six years on. Haven't gotten to 500 posts, yet...but I'm getting close.
Didn't have much of a "readership" for many years. A beloved few kinda came and went.
Nowadays, a thousand or more per month come and go.
The Cosmos does its thing and I do mine. Mebbe I'll get to 500 posts...mebbe not. And it don't matter all that much to me, 'cuz all I ever wanted to do was sort through my own head, put thoughts and feelings into words as best i could...for my own sake and salvation.
What a long, strange trip it's been! The absolute worst years of my life.
Even so, I came to "meet" a few exceptional souls such as you. And for that, well, words fail.
I wonder how many start writing through the worst years of their lives. True for me. Sorting, yes...we are sorting, and stitching. You are special. Thanks for letting me bum around :)
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